Moments
by chelsietea
Summary: Virtually "watch" me struggle with the plot bunnies the Chelsie Anon sometimes leaves in my inbox on Tumblr. Just a silly collection of Chelsie moments.
1. One

**Hi there! Since the Chelsie Anon has left me three plot bunnies already and I haven't written anything yet, I've decided to put all my responses together like other people in here have done, which is a very good idea.**

**I thought of it also as a way of apologizing since I haven't updated "A Little Courage" yet (chapter fourteen is being betaread ^^').**

**This collection isn't betaread so, since English isn't my mothertongue, if you find any mistakes, please send me a PM and I'll be happy to correct it. **

**Enjoy (?)**

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_Elsie had admonished him to leave the serving on the sand covered beach to the younger and more agile footmen but he had taken her remark as a slight to his abilities as Butler and insisted on being in attendance the entire day. Charles performed admirably but at the very end of the day, he was hot and tired and took a misstep in the sand. They both heard a loud popping sound followed by a crack as he collapsed into a heap on the sand. What happens next?_

He sat on her settee with a grunt of pain.

After his fall on the beach, Mrs Hughes had given him first aid and then disposed for him to be taken home by the chauffeur. And there he was, in the housekeeper's parlour in Downton Abbey while the family was still on the beach and Thomas held the reins of the staff.

She had disappeared from sight after having helped him to sit and he couldn't help but sigh in frustration.

"Come on, Mr Carson, you just twisted your ankle. There's no reason to puff and pant like that," came her Scottish brogue from the doorway.

"Oh, Mrs Hughes, this is a catastrophe. What must the family think?"

"They will probably be worried about you, hoping you've not hurt yourself too badly," she offered while fussing around her desk.

"They will, of course they will. They hold very high the well-being of their servants."

Elsie tried not to roll her eyes at the ceiling. That man would never change. He was on her settee with a twisted ankle and he still went on praising the Crawleys. She finally found what she was looking for and made her way towards him.

"Now if you stay still, I'll see what I can do with to lessen your pain while we wait for Doctor Clarkson."

"Did you call him?"

"Of course I called him! I'm no nurse myself, thank you very much!"

"Well, you're very skilled in providing first aid," he commented.

She smiled at him. "Why, thank you, _Doctor Carson_," she replied ironically while taking his ankle in her hands and carefully examining it. He let out a tiny whimper of pain. She gasped and mumbled something.

"What?" he asked.

"You still have little splinters of glass in your ankle. Stay still, please."

He watched fascinated as she furrowed her brow in concentration while she struggled to extract the splinters with a pair of tweezers. Her lips were set in a thin line and her eyes were focused on his damaged expanse of skin.

He smiled at that, seeing her so concentrated and caring made his heart swell with pride and love. They had always cared about each other as good friends but it was these little moments he enjoyed the most. He loved when they had the chance to be alone together, at night while sharing a glass of wine or occasionally during the day.

He loved being with her, making jokes and laughing or just talking quietly and discussing household matters. He enjoyed those casual touches they shared during the day and in that moment he was enjoying the warmth of her little hands on his skin.

"Mr Carson?" the sound of her voice brought him out of his reverie.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Hughes, I was miles away."

"Better for you then, you haven't made a sound while I extracted the splinters."

He looked at his ankle, surprised. He must have made a funny face, for she burst out laughing. "Thank you for your trust, Mr Carson! Didn't you know I'm an excellent nurse? Everyone keeps telling me."

He chuckled at that. "A very excellent nurse, Mrs Hughes, I grant you that." Then he boldly reached out for her, taking her hand. "Thank you, Mrs Hughes… Elsie."

She looked at him and smiled shyly. "You've nothing to thank me for, Mr Carson."

He pulled gently at her and she sat next to him. He didn't know if it was the pain that went to his head, or the look of her, so nice and pretty in her dark blue dress. He only knew he kissed her.

It was just a quick peck on the lips but it was enough to make her blush a little.

He suddenly started to worry. Was she upset? Had he been too forward? Of course he had. "Please forgive my impertinence, Mrs Hughes. I…"

She squeezed his hand to interrupt him. "If you thank me in this way, well…"

"I know I've been too forward and I…" he continued.

"…I think it might be a very welcome thank you," she concluded.

He stopped in mid sentence and looked at her, surprised again. "But then, when didn't this woman surprise me?" he thought.

She took advantage of the moment to place a soft kiss on his lips, emboldened by his behaviour towards her. He wrapped his arms around her waist almost timidly, while kissing her back.

When they separated, he smiled at her, flushed and breathless. "Why, Elsie. I have everything to thank you for."

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**I hope you've enjoyed this first moment. How about leaving a review to show your (dis)approval?**


	2. Two

**Hi dear ones! I really wish to thank you for all your lovely reviews and your support: you're so so kind, thank you very much. This means a lot to me. **

**I must confess I'm rather enjoying myself while trying to write something decent for these plot bunnies. If Fellowes insists on treating them like that why shouldn't we have fun with them instead, hmm?**

**Next plot bunny should be the Valentine's Day one. I don't know how long it will be before I post because it's creating me problems. Several fics on that matter have already been published and they're all wonderful, so I'm afraid of coming up with weird and ridiculous ideas... I'll find something, don't worry, even if silly unfortunately. But then, what isn't silly in this collection?**

**PS: I forgot to add, if any of you want to leave a plot bunny in my ask on Tumblr (I'm prior-incantatem) I'd be more than happy to write something about it *.***

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_Charles had gathered Elsie into his arms when he heard rapping. He opened the door to find 5 yr old Master George with a fierce scowl. Pushing the Butler's knee, he marched in and announced to the room, "A word, Carson?" "I'll be in my parlor," Elsie said quietly, pulling the door to peek thru the gap. Fists on hips, George tipped his head back as far as it would go and stared up at the man. "I've decided to run away, Carson, would you have Morris bring the motorcar around?" What happens next?_

Elsie stood behind the door left ajar, watching intently the scene in front of her.

Charles smiled at little Master George, his throat now tight with emotion. This situation reminded him of another time, another era, another night in which a little girl with dark hair (so different from George Crawley's fair hair) had gone to him asking him to help her running away from home.

"And where do intend to go, m'lord?"

"I can't possibly tell you, can I, Carson? This way you'll tell mama. I know you have a soft spot for her," replied George with a fierce look on his face that reminded him so much of Lady Mary.

She saw Charles kneeling down slowly to be at his eye level. "If you want the motorcar, m'lord, I could arrange for Morris to bring it around but…"

"But?"

"Well, that could be awkward for his Lordship, your grandfather. Not to mention your mother," he concluded, saying words he had already said many years before.

George Crawley remained silent while looking intently in the old butler's eyes and clutching his favourite toy soldier to his chest.

Charles had to swallow two times before he could speak again. "How about I give you sixpence to spend in the village instead?"

Master Crawley's eyes sparkled at that. Then he furrowed his brow, as if he was deep in thought. "Very well then. I'll give you my toy soldier in exchange for your sixpence."

"M'lord, I could never deprive you of…"

"Hush, Carson, let's not speak about it anymore," he said, in that commanding tone so typical of his mother. "After all I must show my appreciation and care for servants," he added in a soft tone, remembering him more of his father now.

After a moment's silence, she heard Charles reply. "Very good, m'lord, as you wish."

After their little trade was made, George Crawley excused himself and went upstairs, because "Nanny was probably looking for him".

Elsie entered his pantry chuckling softly. She closed the door after her but, when she turned, she saw Charles lost in his thoughts.

"Sixpence?" she asked him.

He turned to face her. "Pardon?"

"A sixpence for your thoughts? I could refund you," she teased him.

He smiled slightly at that.

"Whatever is the matter?" Elsie inquired.

He sighed. "It seems yesterday his mother came to me asking for some silver to run away from home and now look at him. Her son. So much like her."

She caressed his face, a loving look in her eyes. She knew how much he loved and cared for Lady Mary, he had watched her grow and it was only natural for him to love her son as well.

"I'm still convinced she had the better bargain, you know?"

He beamed. "Do you?"

"Yes, I do. You gave her a sixpence _and_ the possibility to kiss you. Most women would kill for that."

He couldn't help but laugh. "Really?"

"_I_ would kill for that," she teased.

"But you're lucky already, woman."

"And why is that?"

"Because you're the only one I love kissing," he said, before gathering her in his arms and kissing her squarely on the lips.

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**How about leaving a review and getting a biscuit from me? :)**


	3. Three

**Hi there babies! Here's another chapter. **

**I apologize for the delay in updating "A Little Courage" but it seems my beta is a bit busy in these days, so I'll wait patiently for her to check my chapter ^^**

**This shot is downright silly, don't pay attention to it. Really, don't.**

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_"You know he'll never make the first move!" said Beryl over a late night glass of port. "If you don't want to be sat in that parlor of yours, discussing Lady Mary & Mr. George, on Valentine's Day, you'll have to take that bull-headed butler by the horns!" Elsie smiled as she remembered their fit of giggles but Beryl was right. If ever he was to be shifted off his davit of propriety, it would fall to her. Leaving him busy with the staff Valentines, she put her plan into motion. What happens next?_

Elsie knew Beryl was right. She knew it perfectly.

He would never take the initiative on such a thing. If she didn't get a move, they would remain exactly as they were. Charles Carson, the old and stiff butler of Downton Abbey and Elsie Hughes, his fierce and acid colleague, the Scottish Dragon. She couldn't permit that, no sir.

It was years Elsie planned to surprise Charles with something unexpected but she had never come up with something exciting and interesting.

However, after the chat with Beryl, an idea had come to her mind.

She knew he would be busy writing all the staff Valentines, for he liked to send cards to everyone of the staff to show his appreciation for their hard work during the year. So, when the morning of Saint Valentine's Day finally arrived, Elsie decided to put her plan into motion.

Charles Carson woke up rather early that morning. It was Saint Valentine's day and, although he didn't like the day much because he couldn't stand the blushing and giggling maids and the lovestruck footmen, he enjoyed sending cards to the staff to show his approval and encouragement for their work.

It was his way of showing them he cared for them, all of them. Even Miss O'Brien. They were a team after all, a great family.

He descended the stairs quietly, since everyone in the house was still sleeping. Oh, how much he was mistaken.

He entered his pantry and noticed almost instantly something was amiss. Someone had left a note on his desk. He read it. It said: "How about a walk in the gardens? The sky is lovely today."

He couldn't recognize the handwriting, but he was sure it must be someone of the staff. Were they making fun of him? He didn't know and he supposed he would only if he checked the gardens.

After a moment of hesitation, curiosity won him over and he went out.

The air of February was chilly and reddened his cheeks but he didn't pay attention to it and started pacing on the fine gravel, looking around himself. And he saw it.

He didn't know what it was, not really. He did know it was a person, but ignored if it was a man or a woman. He saw its shadow behind a tree and he blinked, confused. Then the shadow was gone.

He hastened his pace and reached the tree. He looked around it but he found nothing. It was just a silly joke from one of the footmen. He sighed, looking down, and there it was, near his shoes. Another note.

"The sky is indeed beautiful today, don't you agree? Meet me after luncheon at the stables."

It wasn't signed. Again.

He narrowed his eyes and looked better at the handwriting. There was something familiar in the roundness of the "a"s and the narrowness of the "t"s. He shook his head. No, it couldn't be.

Charles spent lunch with his head in the clouds. Even Mrs Patmore noticed his distraction, while serving at the table. She had to call him three times before asking him to pass her his plate.

"What's the matter with you, Mr Carson? Have you received a card from a secret admirer?"

He coughed before responding in his pompous tone. "Nothing of the sort, Mrs Patmore, thank you for your interest."

He saw the cook exchange a rather suspicious glance with Mrs Hughes. The other woman simply shrugged and focused on her plate.

He thought that she might be behind all the notes but then he decided against it. Mrs Hughes saw him as a friend, only as a friend. And she would never do such a thing, not to him.

Shortly after luncheon he decided to go outside again to visit the stables and he found another note on the hay. "See you found me. But you must search for a little bit again. Let's say this evening after dinner just outside the house."

The rest of the afternoon and supper was a sufferance for Charles. He was curious to know who this blasted person was, if it was just a joke of the footmen (and in this case he would make them pay dearly) or if indeed it was _her_.

Oh, vanitas vanitatum! He had received three notes and he continued thinking they might be from her, for goodness' sake! He shook his head to clear his head and resumed eating in silence, not noticing the housekeeper was eyeing him carefully.

When the time finally came, he went out in a rush, looking desperately for a note on the ground. He found it hidden behind the backdoor.

"Congratulations, your quest it's almost at its end. Meet me in the parlour of your friend, the housekeeper."

He had no doubts, not anymore. It was her, it _must_ be her. He ran inside and sprang her parlour door open. She was inside, mending.

"It was you then!" he exclaimed, feeling outraged.

She looked up at him, confused. "Mr Carson, whatever are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Mrs Hughes. It was you who sent me those notes!"

She stood up, still looking confused. "Close the door, please, Mr Carson. And lower your voice."

He obeyed and then sat down on the other chair in front of hers without asking. She sat down too, almost automatically. "You sent me those four notes, Mrs Hughes. Don't deny it."

"Mr Carson, I really don't know what you're talking about. Please explain."

He sighed. Didn't she really know anything about it? Well, the mess was said and done now. "I received four cards today. They all said I had to meet someone here or there, but I've never found the sender. The last one told me to meet said person here and…"

"And?"

"I thought it might be you who…"

"Who sent you those cards?"

He nodded, wordlessly. She let out a small laugh. "I'm sorry, Mr Carson, I'm not the person you're looking for. Someone else must have been struck by your charms."

He looked quite disappointed and that pleased her. "I thought… I wasn't sure if the handwriting was yours or… Mrs Patmore's."

He showed her the notes. The handwriting wasn't hers.

She chuckled. "My, my, Mr Carson. It might be Mrs Patmore has taken a shine to you. I've always known she had a soft spot for you after all," she joked.

He reddened.

She patted his hand. "Well, I must admit I'm quite jealous of the attentions you received today, Mr Carson."

He looked up sharply at her, arching his eyebrow. "Are you? Don't envy me, Mrs Hughes. I'm just an old man that someone has enjoyed making fun of."

She gazed at him coyly. "When I said I was jealous of you I meant it _literally_."

He widened his eyes. What had she just said? She was jealous of him? She was jealous of his secret admirer?

Charles heard her sigh and he saw her stand up and making her way to the door. "I'm sorry, Mr Carson. I guess I was just blabbering."

She turned to opened the door but he stood up and stopped her, taking her by the arm.

"It's now or never, old man," he thought.

She looked confused. "What are you…?"

And that was it. He simply lowered his head and kissed her. She stayed still for a moment, shocked, but then started kissing him back. She slid her arms around his neck, while he cradled her head and draw her closer with his other arm, so she was standing between him and the closed door.

They separated seconds later, slightly breathless. She smiled widely at him, mirroring his own smile.

He embraced her and while she breathed in the scent of him and his aftershave, she thought Beryl could have done a better job in disguising her own handwriting.

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**I know this is pure silliness but... leave a review please?**


	4. Four

**Hi there! So, as I announced on Tumblr, I've decided to write a M-rated ff, using one of the Chelsie-Anon prompts, to test the ground and see if I'm actually capable of writing it.**

**I admit it's been a bit hard, I don't know the proper vocabulary (you'll probably find I used the same words, sorry about that) or better, I do know the words when I read, but it's twice as difficult when you write a sex scene (which is embarassing itself) in a language which isn't yours.**

**I hope you'll like it anyway. And please let me know if my efforts were any good.**

**LAST WARNING: THIS IS M-RATED, IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, SKIP IT.**

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_Charles Carson decides to take the long path back to Downton Abbey on his half day off. Coming into a secluded glade on the lakeshore, he gazes longingly at the cool water lapping against the wooden dock and decides to shed his clothing in favor of a quick dip. Rising from the water after twenty minutes or so, he finds Elsie Hughes standing at the end of the dock with his clothing in her hands and a mischievous smile on her face. What happens next?_

Elsie Hughes was coming back from the village. Since she had her half day off she had decided to run some errands for her and Anna.

It was a very beautiful day, the sky was clear and the sun stood high in the sky, burning hot.

When she saw the lake basin, hidden by the trees, she sighed in relief. She was almost home, thank God, she couldn't stand the heat anymore.

In that moment she heard a noise coming exactly from the lake and she turned her head to glance in its direction.

She stopped in her tracks when she realized someone was swimming in the water and that someone was Charles Carson.

She neared the lakeshore and looked at his clothes, carefully folded and piled on the dock. She blushed when she saw his underwear on the top of the pile.

He was swimming lazily on his back, reaching the dock slowly. When he did, he looked up at her, realizing her presence.

"Mrs Hughes... I..." he stuttered.

She stood on the dock gazing down at him, his clothes in her right hand.

"I didn't realize you were here, I apologize..."

"Why, Mr Carson. No need to apologize," she replied as she looked at him intently.

He tried not to blush under her steady gaze and fought the urge to cover himself in front of her. After all, the water was hiding good part of his body, wasn't it? He tucked his legs underwater for good measure.

"It's a very hot day today," she continued, as if nothing_ awkward_ was happening.

"It is."

"And if you're enjoying the water, why can't I?" she added.

He widened his eyes. Surely she couldn't mean...?

He stumbled in search for words. "Of course, Mrs Hughes, I... I understand perfectly... please... I mean, come in if you wish."

He blushed deep red and averted his eyes, walking back to the center of the lake to give her time to undress.

Oh, man, what trouble had he got into?

"She will at least leave her shift on," he thought panicking. "She could," a voice answered in his mind. "But it will get drenched anyway."

He didn't know why (or maybe he did) but that thought didn't help at all.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He turned slightly to make sure she had entered the lake, however she was still on the dock, naked as the day she was born.

He thought deliriously she must not have looked like _that_ when she was born and felt his body responding at the sight of her.

She dived in head first, in a way that made him think she must have done it several times, maybe in her youth, when she was a young lass during Scottish summers...

"Oh, stop thinking about that. Isn't it enough she is naked in the same lake as you?" he thought, scolding himself mentally.

She hadn't reemerged yet and he started to worry.

The lake was deep enough for her to dive, but what if she had beaten her head on the bottom?

Only when he started moving towards the dock she resurfaced in front of him, water dripping from her body.

She wiped her long hair away from her face and he had to suppress a groan at the sight of her breasts emerging from the surface, her nipples hardening because of the cool water.

"You hold your breath very well underwater," he said, blinking stupidly.

She turned to look at the dock, as if to check how far it was, then glanced back at him. "Aye, so it seems," she agreed with a proud grin, her Scottish accent very thick.

He fought hard not to gape at her and she must have noticed that, for she started teasing him. "Cat got you tongue?"

He tried to say something but he couldn't. His throat was dry and he seemed to have forgotten how to speak. It annoyed him she didn't seem as uncomfortable as him.

Then, without a reason, she splashed him. Her move caught him off guard and Charles looked sharply at her, suddenly brought back to reality.

She splashed him again, laughing. He felt suddenly outraged. "Mrs Hughes, how..."

"Come on, Mr Carson, a little fun never killed anybody!" she smiled mischievously before splashing him again.

"Get a grip, man," he thought. He found himself splashing her back. It was odd how his behaviour changed when that woman was around. He wasn't Mr Carson, the butler of Downton Abbey. With her he was only Charles.

He started walking in her direction and she continued splashing to prevent him from coming.

Charles shielded himself with his arms. "You wicked woman!"

She only responded with a laugh. "The great Charles Carson can't even survive a bit of splashing? My, my!"

"Well," he thought, "Two can play this game."

He dived underwater and held his breath, while looking for her form. After he found her, he reached her in two strokes. He emerged above water and took her by one arm, pulling her roughly towards him.

He noticed how the laugh died almost instantly on her lips, replaced by an expression he couldn't quite read.

Elsie looked up at him. She felt suddenly tiny and defenseless in his arms, yet she couldn't take her eyes off of him. Her heart was beating like mad in her chest.

He too was looking at her with an expression both of seriousness and... was it lust?

She was suddenly aware of his overwhelming nearness. He had enveloped her in his strong arms, her breasts were pressed to his chest and she could feel his length brushing against her thighs. The mere thought made her week in the knees.

Charles gazed at the woman in his arms. She looked so beautiful with her hair wet and loose, her cheeks slightly flushed and her breasts bare. He was holding her tightly and she didn't seem to mind, he couldn't be more grateful for that.

He searched for any hint of uncertainty on her face, but he found none. She was staring into his deep brown eyes, almost breathless.

"My, my," she repeated again, this time murmuring. Then his lips covered hers.

She responded to his kiss eagerly, sliding her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him.

He moaned in her mouth, sensing her pubis pressed against his crotch and feeling his length starting to harden.

Charles entwined his fingers in her hair and started covering her neck in tiny kisses. When he reached her collarbone and his tongue flicked out to taste her skin, she shuddered in his arms.

He kissed her again, hard on the mouth, gripping her tightly on her round bottom and he was pleased to know it was far better than he had imagined. Now it was her turn to let out a low moan.

He focused on her breasts, first suckling one of her nipples tenderly, then teasing it with his teeth before moving to the other.

She was murmuring incoherent words, gasping for breath.

When they separated, they were both slightly breathless. Feeling his need for her grow harder, he looked at her questioningly, seeking out her consent.

When she nodded he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her slightly to settle her in his lap. He crouched in the water as she put her legs around him to draw him even closer. Then she lifted herself up and slid down on him in one single stroke.

She closed her eyes and bit her lip, while he fought against the urge to seek his release. The feeling of her around him was enough to drive him mad.

Elsie started moving slowly up and down, settling a rhythm, helping herself with her hands on his shoulders.

He groaned, feeling the contrast between her warmness and the coolness of the water and she moaned at the delicious sense of friction.

"Mmm, Charles," she purred softly in his hear.

He bent his head down again to tease one of her nipples, eliciting a deep and loud moan from her, while he continued to meet her movements with his hips, pumping in and out of her, building up the tension.

She was gripping the hair on the back of his neck, encouraging his attentions to her breasts, while she pressed her heels into his buttocks, scraping his back with her other hand.

When he felt her walls tightening around him he started thrusting harder, muffling her soft cries with his mouth on hers.

Their tongues were teasing each other as he breathed out and she breathed in, as he breathed in and she breathed out.

She was moving quicker to match his strokes, her breasts bouncing up and down and grazing the hair of his chest, her nipples feeling deliciously hard against his skin.

He shortened his strokes and, when he felt he couldn't hold back anymore, he spilled himself in her. She followed after a while, crying out his name.

After they had both reached their release, they rested there, at the center of the lake, both panting heavily and trying to catch their breath.

They were still joined, neither of the two wanting to let go the other. She was still in his lap, her hands lazily tracing patterns on his back, her head resting on his shoulder.

Her breath tickled his neck but he didn't mind. He rested his head on her hair, stroking her back from her neck to her bottom.

Their chests were pressed tightly to one another, their hearts beating furiously as one.

Around them there was nothing but silence.

After several minutes, she pulled back, looking at him in the eyes. He stared at her questioningly, but she only smiled at him.

"Well, that was quite unexpected, wasn't it?" she commented, her Scottish brogue still thick.

He chuckled. "It was."

She kissed him sweetly on the lips before kissing the tip of his nose and resting her forehead on his, their breaths mingling with one another.

"Elsie," he was only able to whisper. And yet it was the best word he had ever said.

He couldn't help but smile at her, feeling a great amount of joy in having Elsie Hughes in his arms.

When she embraced him, resting her head on his shoulder again and letting out a content sigh, Charles knew he couldn't be happier for the turn that day had taken.

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**Enjoyed this? Why don't you leave a review to let me know?**


	5. Five

**Since that Chelsie scene from the Lorraine clip I couldn't take those two idiots out of my head. They'll kill me.**

**Sorry about this.**

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_"I'm not a complete stranger to romance, Mrs Hughes, if that's what you're implying. Maybe I am now. I wasn't always."_

"I don't know why everyone is so excited today," Elsie huffed as they neared his pantry. "The maids have their heads in the clouds and even Anna can't stop smiling."

"It's Valentine's Day," he replied, with an air of one who knows what's what.

She made a big O with her mouth, astonished.

"Oh! Imagine you're remembering that and my forgetting it! Who would have thought such a thing?"

She immediately regretted what she had said, for his face dropped.

"I'm not a complete stranger to romance, Mrs Hughes, if that's what you're implying. Maybe I am now. I wasn't always."

She bit her lip. "Of course, Mr Carson. I meant nothing of the sort. Please, forgive me."

He opened the door of his pantry and motioned for her to go inside. He then followed her and closed the door after him.

"Have a seat, please."

She sat, almost automatically, and he took his place in front of her. Charles couldn't look at her, even if he tried. He kept staring at his hands, wringing them nervously.

A grave silence hung over them, the silence of those who are about to tell something about their past and of those who are going to listen to them.

He cleared his throat, finally raising his head to look at her. "You once told me about that farmer of yours, that Burns fellow... but I never told you about me."

She was the one who looked uncomfortable now. "Mr Carson, there's no need for you to..."

"Mrs Hughes, please," he interrupted her. "I don't mind, really. It's my wish to tell you."

She couldn't do anything else but nod at him, waiting for him to continue what he had started telling, a story of probably twenty, if not thirty or even more, years before, when he was a lad and the lucky woman was barely a young lass... she knew she should stand up and leave, for listening to his story would be too painful, even if that young lass was now long married and far away from them...

His deep voice briought her back to reality. "I had a few flirts when I was barely a young man, before coming to Downton. However, what I'd like to tell you happened ten years ago."

She was staring at him intently and had to suppress a sharp intake of breath. Ten years ago? That was almost like yesterday!

A voice in her mind screamed not to care, that wasn't her business, ten years was a lifetime ago... but she couldn't help feeling disappointed, knowing he had a relationship with a woman, another woman that wasn't her.

She hadn't been still in love with him when he had that woman in his life, but still, they had known each other for a long time when it happened and she felt a pang in her pride, in her self-confidence, because even if she hadn't had any romantic feelings for the butler at the time, she might have agreed to have an affair with him, if he had only asked.

But he never asked, he never needed her help. Not for that matter anyway.

"It was during the Season. She was a maid in the Crawley's house in London. We continued our - he cleared his throat - _encounters_ during all my stay in London. Then I returned here and she remained where she was. We didn't want anything serious, so it wasn't a painful goodbye. We kept in touch for a few months, then her letters started to arrive less frequently and in her last letter she said to me she had been dismissed from the Crawley's house. She never told me why."

She swallowed. "Have you ever seen her again?"

"I did. It was a few years ago, in London. She was in company of her husband. I don't think she recognized me."

"And have you... do you... still think of her?" she asked hesitantly.

"I did. I do, sometimes. I wonder what my life would have been with her."

She looked down at her hands. "So you have an answer to that question I made you all those years ago," she stated.

He sighed. "I think I do," he replied in the end.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks.

"He would have married her," she thought. "He would have married her and left me here, alone."

"And what have you thought about, Mr Carson?" she asked in a slightly high pitched voice. "Who have you thought of?"

His reply came without hesitation. "You."

She blinked. Once, twice.

"Me?" she asked stupidly. "Surely I have nothing to do with that maid." She tried to said the word "maid" with less contempt as possible.

"In fact, you don't. That's the point."

She still didn't understand.

"You see, Mrs Hughes, when I returned home you came out to greet me and the rest of the staff as usual."

She nodded.

"And when I saw you smiling at me, asking me how my journey had gone... I started thinking maybe I have done it all wrong."

"What do you mean?" she asked him in a whisper.

"I do think about that maid sometimes. I wonder what would have happened if we had continued our liaison every time I went to London for the Season. But then I think about what I have here, _who_ I have here. And that's you, Mrs Hughes."

She looked at him in silence, she still couldn't believe her ears.

"Please forgive me for waiting all these years to said this but... the thing is, I can't imagine my life in another way if not with a woman and... that woman is you, Mrs Hughes... Elsie."

Her name pronounced by him woke her from her sort of daydreaming.

When she spoke, her voice was cracked by emotion. "You thought of me since then?"

It was his turn to nod now.

Her heartbeat was like a hummingbird's, her blood rushed through her veins and she couldn't think straight.

"I ask for your forgiveness for not telling you before, for being the stiff old butler that I am..."

Her eyes shone with tears. "There is nothing to forgive, Mr Carson."

She stood up and neared him slowly, never breaking eye contact with him. He didn't stand, but followed her movements with his eyes.

Elsie cupped his face and kissed his forehead softly, breathing in his scent. He took her hand in his and kissed her palm, looking up at her almost adoringly.

She felt as if all her previous worries had disappeared. They all seemed childish conjectures, she had jumped to conclusions too quickly... but now her relief was almost doubled.

They were so close, their breathing heavy, their chests rising and falling rhythmically... he slowly raised his head in her direction and kissed her on the cheek, grazing the corner of her mouth with his lips.

"Thank you."

She smiled tenderly. "There is nothing to forgive, sweet man."

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**Please review if you have the time!**


	6. Six

**Hi there! Sorry if I'm not writing much these days but school is a bitch. This chapter is based on a prompt Ame (ms-obsessive-compulsive on Tumblr) has thought and which I think it's pretty awesome.**

**Hope I've done it justice! Please leave me a review to let me know what you think of it!**

**PS: Sorry for any errors, it's not betaread ^^'**

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_"Wants a scene where like Elsie is leaving or retiring or something and it's raining outside and she has her big umbrella walking away and then Carson shouts her first name and runs after her in the rain and he tells her that he needs her and loves her while she's standing there getting soaking wet and just looks at him with tears in her eyes and then ditches the umbrella and they stand there in the rain and just have some sort of romantic moment I will take anything I just"_

_- ms-obsessive-compulsive_

Charles glanced at himself in the mirror while he adjusted his collar.

He had the look of someone who clearly hadn't slept all night, dark circles underlined his tired and puffy eyes.

He passed a hand on his face and through his unruly hair, sighing loudly.

The uneasiness of last night hadn't still left him and a strange anxiousness was gripping his insides tightly, twisting and turning them upside down with force.

She was leaving Downton. She was leaving them. She was leaving _him_.

Elsie had come to him a few weeks before, announcing her decision to retire.

He had been quite taken aback and hadn't been able to reply anything, let alone form a coherent sentence to express his thoughts and feelings.

He had simply nodded, his throat tight and dry, managing a croaked "very well, Mrs Hughes. I'll ask His Lordship if he can find a cottage for you" after a while.

She had acknowledged his words with a forced smile, more like a grimace to him.

He had tormented himself all night because of that.

He hadn't told her anything to make her stay - he didn't want to impose on her but he knew that he could have said something to show he held her in the highest regard, that he held her dear, _very_ dear. But no, he didn't.

He had seen clearly the pained look on her face, which she had unsuccessfully attempted to hide from him, but she was like an open book.

He had always had difficulties in reading her face, however he had understood what she felt in that moment: delusion, disappointment. And he was the cause for it.

He hadn't felt more ashamed and stupid in all his life, not even thinking of his stage days.

He buttoned his coat and started combing his hair carefully.

Maybe he still had time to adjust things, maybe he could... but what was he going to do?

He almost couldn't bear the sight of her at breakfast and everyone seemed quite silent as well.

Anna herself was staring intently at her bowl of pudding, playing with her spoon without eating anything.

Elsie's nerves were on edge. The servants' hall was enveloped in what she liked to call "an atmosphere" and she hated that.

Yes, she was leaving Downton, she was retiring: it was not as if she was going to war, for God's sake!

Fortunately the ringing of bells lifted the heavy and dark cloud that hung over the servants.

Mrs Hughes got up and left the hall, even if she could start working later than the maids, leaving her pudding almost untouched and Charles even more confused on what to do.

The evening arrived sooner than he would expect. He was in his office, sitting at the desk, trying unsuccessfully to focus on his work.

A quiet chatter was coming from the hallway, which suddenly grew in intensity. Annoyed, he stood up, peeping through the crack of the door.

Beryl Patmore was hugging fiercely the housekeeper, hiding her tears. She whispered something at Elsie's ear, something like "I never thought you would leave before me".

Both Ivy and Daisy were waiting for the two older women to separate and, after they did, Daisy couldn't resist hugging Mrs Hughes as well.

Anna's face was clearly tear-streaked. She was going to get a promotion but she couldn't bear not seeing the housekeeper's face every day at Downton, as she was used to.

Charles had always had the suspicion Anna considered her less of a colleague and more of a mother and now it was clearer than ever he was right.

Elsie stroked Anna's hair tenderly and placed a kiss on her forehead, then shook hands with Mr Bates.

She looked around the corridor for him and, after a while, he emerged from the shadows of his office.

Her face lighted up a bit when she saw him.

"Well then, Mr Carson. I must be on my way."

He neared her and the others in a few paces. "Certainly, Mrs Hughes... have a good night."

They stood awkwardly looking at each other in front of the others, then Elsie's cheeks coloured slightly and she avoided her eyes under the knowing glances of the present staff.

She nodded at him and started putting on her coat, her hat already pinned on her head.

He had arranged for her luggage to be moved to her new house during the morning, so she held nothing but her purse in her hands.

She smiled at them one last time, then opened the door.

A cold gust of wind rushed past them, adding a bit of colour to her cheeks.

"It's raining!" she noticed.

It was raining indeed, and quite heavily. Anna left them and returned after a few moments, carrying a big umbrella under her arm.

"Here, take this, Mrs Hughes."

"Thank you, Anna."

She stepped over the threshold and opened it. "See you soon!" she exclaimed, before going out under the pouring rain.

Anna closed the door after her and, wiping away a few tears with her sleeve, proceeded up the stairs to check on Lady Mary.

Everyone returned to their duties, leaving Charles alone in the hallway.

His mind was reeling. Should he go after her? Shouldn't he?

And what would he say if he reached her? What was the proper way to tell a woman you felt something for her?

In the end he decided against it. He went back to his office, but his hand stopped on the handle of his door.

He turned, looked at the clock in the corridor. Only five minutes had passed.

He ran to the door and opened it again, with haste. The cold stung his face like a slap, almost making him regain his senses. He stopped on his tracks, staring at the rain falling ahead of him.

Then he lunged forwards.

He had been running under the rain for almost five hundred meters when he saw her. Her figure looked so tiny under all that water pouring down from heaven.

"Elsie!" he shouted. "Elsie!"

She didn't turn, obviously not hearing his voice.

"Elspeth!" he bellowed with all his might.

She turned and looked for the one who said her name. In the meantime he reached her, panting and puffing.

"Mr... Mr Carson?" she asked, confused and concerned. "What are you doing here? It's raining cats and dogs!"

"I... I had something to tell you."

"And couldn't it wait a few days?"

"No, it has waited long enough. Mrs Hughes, I... I can't bear not having you in the house, working by my side day by day. I can't bear not spending our evenings together anymore. Mrs Hughes, Elspeth, I... I need you" he spluttered under the rain.

"I need you, I've always needed you. I'm sorry I haven't realized this sooner."

"Haven't realized what?"

"That I... that I love you, Elspeth."

She looked at him, astonished, at loss for words.

"You... love me?"

He took a deep breath. "I do."

He was standing in front of her looking so fragile and helpless, with his hair plastered on his face, his clothes soaking wet, and that childish, puppy-like look... and she couldn't help but laugh.

She didn't know if it was the excitement and anxiousness of the day, his sudden outburst or the cold that was penetrating her bones.

He assisted at her display of emotions with a confused expression, trying not to let his disappointment show.

She ditched away her umbrella and purse and caressed his cheek, smiling at him while tears that mingled with teardrops streaked her face.

"Oh Charles. You insufferable, sweet man."

And then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, taking him by surprise.

After the initial shock, he responded quite eagerly to that, kissing her back with all the tenderness he could manage.

He entwined his hands in her wet hair and drew her closer to him, while she gripped him tightly by the shoulders.

Elsie laughed merrily against his mouth and he couldn't help kissing her again and again, opening his mouth to her sweet tongue and cupping her face in his large hands.

They separated after a while, their breath short and creating little warm clouds in clear contrast with the coldness of the night.

She was shivering, he noticed. "You are cold."

"It freezing out here."

"Perhaps is best we... I mean you..."

Elsie smiled at him again and grabbed the umbrella and purse from the ground. She then took his hand. "Come with me."

He followed her willingly. He was ready to follow her everywhere, he thought. He would never let her go.


	7. Seven

**Hello! This is a response to a request by inordertolivelife on Tumblr. I published there first but I choose to publish it here too. **

**The prompt was Carson/Hughes and Accidental Kissing.**

**Enjoy (?)**

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_Carson/Hughes - Accidental Kiss_

Charles entered her parlour without knocking that morning.

"Mrs Hughes? Are you in here?" he asked, not seeing her in the room.

"I'm over here, Mr Carson," came her muffled voice.

"Where?"

"Under my desk."

He neared her desk and saw she was actually under it. "What on earth are you doing there?"

"I was writing and my pen slipped through my fingers and fell under the desk. I switched on the light but I can't find it anyway."

"I'll help you," he offered, kneeling down.

"Mr Carson, there's no need for you to..."

"Nonsense," he cut her short. "Two pair of eyes is better than one."

She smiled slightly as he started moving his hands on the floor, searching for her pen. She followed his example and put herself on all fours.

They were very close to each other, their shoulders brushing and their hands almost touching.

They weren't young folks anymore and soon their laboured breaths broke the silence that enveloped her parlour.

"I think I've found it," puffed Mr Carson after a while.

"Have you?"

"Yes!" exclaimed the butler, grabbing the pen and sitting upright on his legs, forgetting he was crouched under her desk.

He bumped his head hard on the wood and let out a whimper of pain.

"Mr Carson!" She turned to him, alarmed, and pushed herself up, bumping her head as well and accidentally brushing her lips against his while sitting instinctively back on her legs.

Their eyes got wide and they both blushed, still massaging their own heads.

"I'm sorry..."

"I apologize..." they spoke at the same time. They stopped and glanced at each other.

Charles was looking at her with red ears and a startled and confused expression, while she was looking at him with cheeks burning red.

"Don't be sorry," she whispered.

Charles' heart was pounding in his chest. "I am not," he admitted.

She was so beautiful in that moment, with her pretty blushing and her coy expression.

He was so handsome in that moment, with that curl on his forehead and his ears beet red.

Their mouths crushed together at the same time. His hands went to the small of her back, bringing her closer, while hers cradled his head and entwined in his greying hair.

Elsie moaned in his mouth and he teased softly her lower lip with his teeth, moving his hands up and down her back.

When they separated they were both blushing profusely, panting slightly.

"I must admit that was quite unexpected."

She smiled at him. "It was. But not at all unpleasant."

He nodded in agreement.

Elsie kissed the bridge of his nose and took the pen off the floor, where it had fallen. "Thank you."

It was his turn to smile. "I think we'd rather thank your pen, Mrs Hughes... Elsie."

"Yes, it has always been a good and faithful pen. Whatever shall we thank it for, Charles?"

He took her again in his arms. "For this," he whispered, kissing her softly.

"Mmm," she murmured. "I think we should thank it again."

He was more than happy to oblige.

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**I know this was a little silly fic but it would be lovely if you left a review to let me know what you think about it. Have a good day! :)**


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